


divine designs

by Siria



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-26
Updated: 2009-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam's been around the SGC for a while now, and he still hasn't been able to worm the whole story of how Teal'c managed to get cable installed in his quarters here out of anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	divine designs

**Author's Note:**

> A partial and belated birthday gift for [Cate](http://sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com).

Cam's been around the SGC for a while now, and he still hasn't been able to worm the whole story of how Teal'c managed to get cable installed in his quarters here out of anyone. Cam's a decorated lieutenant colonel and there's days he can't get a pudding cup in the mess; Teal'c's a state secret living twenty floors underground in one of the most secure military facilities in the whole country and somehow he's got pretty much every sports station a guy could want, HBO, Showtime, and—

Cam sticks his head around the door of Teal'c's quarters. "You're watching HGTV?"

Teal'c looks up gravely at him for a moment, then returns to his contemplation of Candice Olson's divine designs. He has a small bowl of popcorn in his lap, the remote precisely aligned on the arm of his sofa. "Indeed I am, Cameron Mitchell."

Cam looks around the room, which is pretty much the same as always—if you take out the candles and the couple of potted plants dotted here and there, the room's spartan enough to make the most sadistic drill sergeant happy. Small table and chairs; TV; bookcase; neatly-organised desk; bed you could bounce Cam off, never mind a quarter—the kind of plain that would have Cam's grandma clucking before she set to knitting an afghan to brighten the place up. "Okay, let me rephrase: Teal'c buddy, _why_ are you watching HGTV?"

Teal'c tilts his head a little, as if considering the question, though his eyes never leave the TV. "It is inspiring. I find the struggle to maintain aesthetic unity in the face of adversity to be most engaging."

Cam flops down next to Teal'c on the small sofa, steals a handful of his popcorn and peers at the screen. There's a fine art to telling when Teal'c's serious and when he's just yanking your chain, and even after three years and facing down a couple dozen near-death situations together Cam doesn't think he's mastered it. "You've faced down system lords and killer machines and now you're classifying dry rot as _adversity_?"

Teal'c raises an eyebrow at him. "Dry rot can cause such instability that a house can collapse. I find Candice Olson's decision to delay her decorative work in order to treat the underlying problem to be most prudent."

His momma raised Cam to have manners, so he doesn't call bullshit straight out. "That one of your Jaffa wisdom things?"

"I do not see how the proper care of one's dwelling is solely a consideration of the Jaffa."

Sometimes Cam gets the impression that every time General O'Neill sees him, he's trying his best not to laugh in Cam's face, and Cam is pretty sure he knows why—dealing with any member of SG-1 is like trying to herd a passel of irritable cats at the best of times, what with Sam's scientific whatsits and Daniel's tendency to get himself dismembered or what have you and Vala's... Valaishness. But Cam's got the extra complication of the fact that Little Cam likes to perk up in a very non-regulation manner every time he's around Teal'c and on occasion he thinks it might just be easier to go ahead and beat his own head against the steering wheel of his truck every morning before he sets off for work; might save him a little time. "I'm just saying, you're living in a windowless concrete bunker and you're watching some chick doing window treatments."

"Candice Olson is not some chick, Cameron Mitchell."

"Teal'c."

"It is as I said. Knowing how to care for one's home is important, and I have not previously lived in a bungalow such as yours."

Cam blinks at him. "They gave you permission to live off-base again?" He hadn't even known Teal'c was planning to petition the IOA again; had thought that maybe, after more than ten years spent here, Teal'c was ready to settle for this.

"O'Neill can be very persuasive when he wishes to be."

"He blackmailed someone?"

"I believe so," Teal'c says blandly, and Cam's pretty sure there's a tale there that'd make a couple of four star generals cringe if it ever got out.

"Huh." Cam stares at the screen for a moment, though he doesn't think he's taking in much of Candice's big reveal. He's suddenly even more aware of how Teal'c's thigh is pressed against his, solid and warm through two layers of BDUs. "My house, huh?"

"Other arrangements seem unnecessarily complicated."

"You mean like how we have double copies of the _Babylon 5_ DVDs and all the _Star Wars_ movies?"

"Indeed," Teal'c replies, though the sly hint of satisfaction that lurks in the corners of his mouth tells Cam he's thinking of other complications entirely—and of what it will be like to be free of them. The two of them watch the TV in silence for a minute or two—something called _Dear Genevieve_'s just started, and there's someone sobbing about the state of their living room in a way that makes Cam feel kind of uncomfortable—and then Teal'c says, "It is also an arrangement which will be lacking in security cameras. I believe this will allow for greater flexibility."

Cam's mouth goes dry. He doesn't think that the Jaffa are the sort to go in for the double entendre, but heck, even the single variety means they'd have more freedom than they do now. His stomach flips like it does when he's pulling a couple of Gs in the cockpit, and he's got the strangest urge to do something really stupid, to indulge in the kind of crazy Jackson's been known for in the moments before he gets killed (again). Cam wants to kiss Teal'c, to lick at the familiar, warm curve of his mouth; wants to lie back on the couch and tug Teal'c down on top of him; wants to let his legs fall apart and—and he has to swallow before he can croak out, "I'll help you pack."


End file.
